Way of the Rose
by DonQ
Summary: An Alternative-Universe Utena Tale. All reviews, comments, and critiques are welcome. [Unfinished]
1. WOTR Chapter 1

Way of the Rose

By Jorge Quinones

Ye Olde Disclaimers: Shoujo Kakumei Utena (Revolutionary Girl Utena) and all the characters pertaining to the manga/show were written by the wonderful Chiho Saito and brought to animated life by the folks at B-Papas and the skillful directions of Kunihiko Ikuhara. The story elements written within this fanfic are my ideas and belong to me. This was written for fun, not profit. I'm just borrowing the characters for a while. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I'm enjoying writing it. We fanfic writers thrive on feedback, and all comments/questions/flames/etc. are welcome. Thank you, and enjoy!

Chapter 1

A lone figure traversed the open plains of the scorched earth, picking their way through the ruins of a centuries-old settlement, their booted feet sinking slightly in the sand. Gutted remnants of moisture-collectors and crumbling foundations dotted the otherwise barren landscape. From their protective mask and tattered leather duster, to a hood pulled over their head, the lone being was protected, head to toe, against the searing winds of the dunes. Their only other possessions were a saddlebag, and a sword strapped across their back. The sword's handle of exquisitely carved ivory played a beautiful counterpoint to the wrought steel guard, both of which glinted in the rays of the waning sun.

At the summit of the highest dune, the traveler paused and surveyed the scene with a pair of binoculars. The crosshairs came to rest upon an oasis. Ruins, both great and small, dotted the solitary patch of fertile earth. A heavy sigh passed through the mask.

"The Oasis of Ohtori," whispered a decidedly female voice, "and just in time for a late dinner."

A scurrying at the corner of her vision caught the traveler's attention.

"But first… lunch."

A luminous full moon was halfway to its apex by the time the woman reached the ominous gate that marked the entrance to the oasis. Two tall towers that probably housed the wall guards flanked the double-door gate, each half heavily fortified with steel cross-sections and spikes.

"Halt! Who goes there?" challenged a gruff voice. The "ching" of a round being chambered echoed in the darkness.

"I am Utena Tenjou," answered the tall cloaked woman, her voice calm.

"What business have you here?"

"I have journeyed many months. I seek shelter and, if possible, food."

"To what end is your journey?" answered the challenging voice.

"What I search for and why are my business and my business alone."

The Captain of the Guard paused to consider his options. Lone travelers seeking admission to Ohtori this late at night were rare, but not all that unusual. He weighed his options a moment further. "Very well. Approach the gate with both hands in the air."

The woman raised her hands above her head and stepped towards the gate. The massive doors whispered open as three heavily armed men advanced on Utena. She was admitted only after she had been patted down and her saddlebags searched. Once in, she lowered her hood and pulled off her protective mask.

The guards stared in awe as a flowing mane of pink hair cascaded down the woman's back, coming to rest just past her shoulder blades. Concealed among the pink tresses was a beautiful face with eyes of intense blue. The light of the full moon gave the stranger an almost otherworldly glow and beauty.

Utena shifted the saddlebags to her other shoulder and proceeded, unhindered, down the dimly lit path. A pair of curious blue eyes followed her from the shadows.


	2. WOTR Chapter 2

Way of the Rose

By Jorge Quinones

Ye Olde Disclaimers: Shoujo Kakumei Utena (Revolutionary Girl Utena) and all the characters pertaining to the manga/show were written by the wonderful Chiho Saito and brought to animated life by the folks at B-Papas and the skillful directions of Kunihiko Ikuhara. The story elements written within this fanfic are my ideas and belong to me. This was written for fun, not profit. I'm just borrowing the characters for a while. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I'm enjoying writing it. We fanfic writers thrive on feedback, and all comments/questions/flames/etc. are welcome. Thank you, and enjoy!

Chapter 2

Utena cautiously approached the inn, her eyes falling upon the well-worn sign that hung above the door of the establishment. The sign bore the painted image of a many-thorned rose.

"The Rose's Thorn, eh?" Utena whispered to no one in particular, unconsciously rubbing the back of her left hand. "Charming, I'm sure…"

With a resolved sigh, Utena entered the inn. The intoxicated tenants that haunted the bar spared her slightly more than a moment's notice. She made her way to the dining area, where a few of the tenants were still finishing their evening meal. Utena took a seat at a table farthest away from the large illuminated stage that dominated the dining room. As she set down her sword and saddlebags, a young woman approached her table.

"Good evening, stranger," she said in a timid voice.

"Hmmm?" Utena looked up at the girl. "Good evening…."

It took the waitress a few moments to realize the tall woman was inquiring her name.

"W- Wakaba," the waitress said in a near-whisper, her doe-brown eyes intently studying something on the floor.

"Well, 'W- Wakaba,' my name is Utena."

"Oh, no… it's just Wakaba," she said, looking Utena eye-to-eye for the first time. "What can I get you, Ms. Utena?"

"Please, it's just Utena." A friendly smile played on Utena's lips. "Tell me, Wakaba, what do you have in the way of drinks?"

"Well, Utena, we have ale, a slightly weaker beer… though not by much," she added with a wink, "milk and well-water, though I wouldn't recommend the well-water."

Utena paused to ponder her choices. "I think I'll go with the ale. Do you have any soup or stew?"

Wakaba looked back towards the kitchen. "I think we might have some stew left, although it isn't very hearty. I'll go check, if you wish."

"Please," a smirk betrayed Utena's attempt not to smile at Wakaba's timidness.

As Wakaba departed, Utena began to unbutton her duster and take off her gloves. A quiet chittering emanating from the saddlebags caught Utena's attention. She undid her bag and peered into it, her dexterous fingers opening a hidden compartment deep within the bag.

"Not now," she whispered, "I'll feed you soon. I promise."

She hastily shut her saddlebag as Wakaba returned from the kitchen. In her arms, she carried a serving tray with a bowl of steaming stew, a loaf of bread, and a tall mug of ale.

"My, my!" Utena exclaimed as she took a whiff of the stew. "Smells wonderful. How much do I owe you?" she asked as she reached for the mug.

"That'll be…" Wakaba froze, a stark look of panic overtaking her face. She stood rigidly still, her eyes transfixed on the outstretched arm that gripped the mug of ale.

Centered on the back of Utena's left hand was a small tattoo of a rose.

Wakaba snapped out of her reverie and quickly bowed her head, her eyes staring at her feet. She fretted nervously, bowing deeply, and slowly started backing away.

"I'm so sorry, Ms. Utena! I-I had no idea, t-there is no charge, of course. How could I think such a thing, p-p-please forgive me…"

With another deep bow, Wakaba turned and was about to run to the relative safety of the kitchen, when Utena reached up and grabbed her arm.

"No, wait, please…" Utena looked at Wakaba with the same amount of confusion with which Wakaba was regarding her. "Sit, please. Why did you say those things? Why did you try to run away?"

Wakaba gingerly took her seat, her eyes never daring to meet Utena's.

"Have you already eaten?" Utena gently asked.

A vigorous nodding of her head let Utena know that Wakaba had already dined.

Utena began speaking, spoon in hand. "So tell me," she began as she stuffed a heaping spoon of stew into her mouth. "Mmmm…. That's good. Anyway, why the sudden mood swing?"

"You don't know?" Wakaba asked, her confusion evident on her face.

"Hmmm?"

"The mark…" Wakaba cautiously pointed to the emblem on Utena's hand.

Utena set down her mug and stared at the rose-shaped symbol. When she spoke, her voice was heavy with years spent pondering the mysteries of the mark.

"This? I've had this as long as I can remember," she began slowly, "My parents once told me that it was a message from the Fates… a guide to my destiny…." She trailed off, memories from a distant past surfacing.

Wakaba could only stare at the face of the woman called Utena. Her face was serene, but her eyes, hidden behind pink tresses, were troubled.

At a complete loss, Wakaba could only ask, "Who _are_ you?"

Utena looked up with an odd expression, caught off guard by Wakaba's question.

A whining sound coming from the saddlebags caught the attention of both women. With a mischievous grin, Utena reached over and undid the ties of her saddlebag. With both hands, she pulled something out, hiding it within her grasp.

"You already know who I am," she said with a gentle smile in her eyes, "and this… is Chu-Chu."

As Utena parted her hands, a tiny desert mouse hopped onto the table. He bounded towards Utena, landing next to her forearm. With a series of angry-sounding noises, he swatted at her arm with his kangaroo-like foot. Utena brought her hands up defensively.

"I'm really sorry, Chu-Chu," she said apologetically, "I really am. I didn't want to bring you out until I knew I could trust her."

Her comment was not lost on Wakaba, who found herself close to tears. They exchanged understanding smiles, but were awakened from their reverie by an incessant tapping. They both looked down, only to see Chu-Chu impatiently tapping his foot on the table. With a laugh, Utena tore a piece of the bread and offered it to the desert mouse.

"Friends?"

Chu-Chu looked away, refusing the peace offering. Wakaba took the bread and offered it again to Chu-Chu.

"I'm sorry I kept your mistress from feeding you, Chu-Chu. Forgive me?"

For a reply, Chu-Chu took the bread in his tiny claws and hopped up to kiss Wakaba on the nose. He made his way to a corner of the table and settled down to enjoy his dinner.


	3. WOTR Chapter 3

Way of the Rose

By Jorge Quinones

Ye Olde Disclaimers: Shoujo Kakumei Utena (Revolutionary Girl Utena) and all the characters pertaining to the manga/show were written by the wonderful Chiho Saito and brought to animated life by the folks at B-Papas and the skillful directions of Kunihiko Ikuhara. The story elements written within this fanfic are my ideas and belong to me. This was written for fun, not profit. I'm just borrowing the characters for a while. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I'm enjoying writing it. We fanfic writers thrive on feedback, and all comments/questions/flames/etc. are welcome. Thank you, and enjoy!

Chapter 3

Utena and Wakaba stood at the threshold to one of the inn's room. Chu-Chu stood perched on Wakaba's shoulder, a very content and smug expression on his whiskered face.

"Thank so much for the wonderful dinner. It's been a long time since I've sat down to a warm, home-cooked meal."

"Oh, it was nothing, really," Wakaba offered with a slight bow.

"We really must speak again sometime," Utena said with a friendly smile, "I enjoyed our conversation."

"I'd like that," Wakaba whispered with a slight blush.

The women exchanged a hug, sealing a promise of friendship.

"Come along, Chu-Chu," Utena ordered as they parted.

The desert mouse nuzzled Wakaba's neck with a sigh and kissed her jaw before he leapt onto Utena's shoulder. Wakaba giggled at the tickling of Chu-Chu's whiskers.

"One more thing, before you go…"

"Yes, Utena?"

"Could you wake me up about an hour after sunrise?"

"As you wish," Wakaba said with a slight curtsy.

"Good night, Wakaba."

"Good night, Utena."

Utena closed the door as Wakaba departed to finish her duties. "Well, Chu-Chu?" she asked her furry companion as she made her way to the bed, tossing her bags and sword onto a nearby chair. "What do you think?"

Chu-Chu hopped off Utena's shoulder and onto the bed. A series of positive-sounding squeaks and chirps were his answer.

Utena contemplated the evening, smiling at the memory. "Yeah, I think you're right."

Utena unceremoniously plopped herself on the bed, Chu-Chu scrambling out of the way of his descending mistress. With a sigh, Utena brought her left hand up to her face. She stared at the rose mark on the back of her hand as memories of the far-flung past came unbidden.

Having lost both parents when she was but a child, Utena had been raised by a friend of her family. Papa Gendo, as she had called him, was a sword-master of great skill and wisdom. Such love and kindness did Papa Gendo impart raising Utena that she had come to love him as a niece loves her uncle.

On the day her parents died, Utena had begun having a recurring dream every night to the present day. A beautiful woman with olive-skin, flowing lavender hair, and dressed in an elegant white gown with red trimming, would intone her name, calling out, "I have finally found you," before being engulfed in darkness. She would see visions of a glowing white rose, in full bloom, floating above a great arena whose surface was covered in petals of various colors: green, red, blue, orange, pink, and lavender.

Papa Gendo, her mentor and surrogate-family, had always maintained that the mark and the dreams were sent from the Fates, as a guide to her destiny. Both Utena and Papa Gendo knew that one day Utena would leave to seek the answer to the riddle her dreams presented. To prepare for that day, Papa Gendo had begun training Utena in martial arts, fencing, and survival. An adept student, Utena had quickly learned what her Uncle had taught her. Higher levels of martial arts and weaponry were aggressively pursued, and just as aggressively taught. Then one night, two years ago, the mysterious woman of her dreams appeared again, this time reaching for Utena, pleading for her to go west.

Both Utena and the man who had been her family for over 15 years knew that the day had come. At their last meeting, Papa Gendo had taken away the battered broadsword Utena had trained with for ten years. _"This training tool is not worthy of a warrior as skilled as you,"_ he had told her_. "You require a weapon whose strength and grace are a match for your own. Here… take this."_ In Utena's awaiting hands was placed a sword, which almost glowed with the nobility that had forged it. Its long, slender, and finely honed blade came to a cross-guard of steel worked to resemble ivy, and its grip of ivory had been intricately carved with thorns and roses in various stages of bloom. The weapon was a sword-smith's magnum opus. In what would be a somber parting, Utena had taken the gift with reverence, and had tightly embraced her adopted uncle.

Utena sighed as she pushed her left hand into its glove, a habit she had picked up long, long ago. The leather and cloth barrier between herself and the mark, indeed between her present and her destiny, provided a temporary comfort. She shifted on the bed, looking for her furry companion and chuckled quietly when she found Chu-Chu on the corner of the bed, very much asleep, and snoring lightly.

"G'night, buddy," she whispered as she, too, closed her eyes and allowed herself to fall into the waiting arms of sleep.

Again, she dreamed of a beautiful woman with olive-skin, flowing lavender hair, and dressed in an elegant white gown with red trimming.


	4. WOTR Chapter 4

Way of the Rose

By Jorge Quinones

Ye Olde Disclaimers: Shoujo Kakumei Utena (Revolutionary Girl Utena) and all the characters pertaining to the manga/show were written by the wonderful Chiho Saito and brought to animated life by the folks at B-Papas and the skillful directions of Kunihiko Ikuhara. The story elements written within this fanfic are my ideas and belong to me. This was written for fun, not profit. I'm just borrowing the characters for a while. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I'm enjoying writing it. We fanfic writers thrive on feedback, and all comments/questions/flames/etc. are welcome. Thank you, and enjoy!

Chapter 4

At the head of a massive table sat a man, perhaps in his early twenties, with a brooding expression. His olive complexion stood out in stark contrast to his light lavender hair. He had his hair tied in a simple ponytail that rested haphazardly on his left shoulder, the tip spilling down to mid-chest. Hidden among his bangs were stormy gray eyes that almost glowed in the dark chamber where the table stood. He held his hands together, fingers steepled, as he absently tapped his index fingers against his lips. The golden buttons of his military-styled attire reflected the light of the single candle that adorned the center of the table. A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he leaned further back in his chair. A knocking on a door hidden somewhere in the darkness caused the man to stir from his reverie.

"Enter." The command was concise and wielded with authority.

The heavy doors opened slowly, the light of the hallway flowing into the room. A young woman dressed in a resplendent and flowing white gown entered the chamber. She stood at the threshold, shivering, though not from any chill. She was afraid. She began to shiver even more as the man's gray eyes bore down on her.

"Yes?" he asked casually, with an air of boredom.

"M-my lord…" she stammered as her eyes looked to the floor. "Lord Kiryuu wishes an audience with you."

"I see. Show him in."

With an almost grateful sigh, the young lady bowed deeply and quickly exited the room.

"Touga," the man murmured to himself. He turned towards the door. "It has been too long, my friend."

"Indeed, my lord Akio," Touga Kiryuu responded as he bowed his head in respect, his flowing mane of red cascading down his shoulders.

"I trust your journey was… pleasant? Please…" Akio motioned towards a corner of the room. A fully stocked bar appeared in the darkness, illuminated in a soft lavender hue.

Touga chuckled as he approached the bar. "As pleasant a journey as any across the Black Rose Dunes can be." He removed his cloak and adjusted his similarly styled uniform.

"Such a diplomatic way of putting it, my dear Touga. The usual?"

"If you please. Tell me, my Lord Akio, have any other members of the Council arrived?" Touga inquired as he took Akio's offered drink.

"Indeed. Lady Juri Arisugawa, Lord Miki Kaoru, and his sister, the Lady Kozue, have already retired to their respective rooms for the evening. Lady Chigusa Sanjouin is due to arrive within the next two days."

"I see…" Touga said, lost in thought as he raised his drink to his lips.

"Oh yes, how could I forget… Lord Kyoichi is training at the fencing hall, as we speak…" A feral grin played across Akio's features for a fraction of an instant.

Touga turned to Akio, his drink forgotten on the table. His icy blue eyes intently studied Akio's unreadable gray eyes. Unexpectedly, he began to chuckle. "If you'll excuse me, my Lord Akio," he said as he pulled a stray lock of his blood-red hair out of his eyes. "I do believe I must go say 'hello' to an old friend…"

"Of course." Akio responded with a nod of his head. "Enjoy yourself, Touga, for the Council convenes in three days."

Without a further word spoken, Lord Touga Kiryuu exited through the doorway that conveniently appeared at the far wall.

Alone once again in the darkened room, Akio Ohtori approached the bar. He picked up Touga's still untouched drink and intently studied it. A resigned sigh escaped his lips as he stared at the glass with eyes that held a sad inevitability. He began to chuckle, a low sound with a malevolence that filled the entire expanse of the room. His eyes no longer held the same sadness as before, but a calculating malice as he downed the entire drink in a single gulp and sent the glass hurtling towards the wall. The sound of the glass shattering was lost amidst the sound of Akio's full-throated laughter.

The sword danced through the air, an extension of the arm of the master who wielded it. The form was simple, yet elegant. The blade effortlessly cut down whatever imaginary opponents the warrior faced as he worked through the exercise. His wavy mane of green was tied back in a simple ponytail, more for function than for style. His lavender eyes shone with the highest of concentrations, the sweat upon his forehead and exposed chest testament to his exertion. The billowing sleeves and pant legs of his fighting _gi_ hid the movement of his arms and legs, making it difficult for any would-be opponent to gauge his actions. The warrior curled his lips up in a fierce snarl and loosed a war cry as he finished his exercise with a powerful downward swing.

The sound of clapping from the entrance to the fencing hall caught the warrior's attention. He turned towards the sound, smoothly sliding the katana into the sheath at his left hip. The figure's face lay hidden amidst shadow, clapping hands and highly shined shoes the only parts of their person peaking from the darkness. The finely manicured hands ceased their clapping and fell to the figure's side.

"Impressive as ever, my dear Saionji." The amused masculine voice commented from behind shadows.

Saionji Kyoichi narrowed his eyes, his right hand instinctively reaching for his katana.

"Who is that? Step into the light," he commanded as he gripped the leather-bound handle.

"I'm hurt," answered the figure as he stepped forward into the soft light, his shoes clicking smartly on the hardwood floor. "You don't remember your old friend?"

"Touga Kiryuu," he answered with a derisive snort, "is no friend of mine."

"Do come off your high horse, my dear Saionji. It doesn't suit you."

"And the false air of sincerity you present doesn't suit you." Saionji shot back as he walked to a stand along a near wall. Multitudes of wooden practice swords were held horizontally at varying heights. He propped his own sword against the wall and retrieved two wooden swords from their hooks. "Has your scheming and flattering left you any time to train, I wonder?"

Touga smirked as he unbuttoned his coat and set it upon a nearby coat rack. "Has your constant devotion to training left you any time to refine your conversational skills, I wonder?"

His question was answered by a dismissive laugh. "Let us converse in the manner of true warriors and I'll show you exactly how refined my 'conversational skills' are," Saionji brandished his wooden training sword to emphasize his point. The other he held out to Touga.

With an amused chuckle, Touga took the offered sword. "Indeed, and I shall show you that 'scheming and flattering,' as you so eloquently put it, are not the only talents I have pursued."

Both master swordsmen stood facing each other, each already in his battle stance. Saionji held his sword high above his head, poised for an initial and decisive downward strike. Touga held his sword low and loose, the shaft of the wooden blade almost parallel to the ground, the extreme concentration in his eyes betraying the lax appearance of his chosen stance.

They lunged at each other, a blur of movement as their respective swords met with a resounding clank. Each continued their onslaught, neither giving any ground as supreme technical skill was matched by a pure passion of the blade. Both Saionji and Touga smiled, enjoying the challenge they presented each other, a challenge they've not had in a long time.

"So, the preening peacock does have talons," Saionji commented as he deflected a slash meant for his abdomen.

"It would seem the lumbering ox does have finesse," Touga returned, ducking under a precise jab.

The battle ended as it had always ended during the bouts of their youth. A skillfully placed jab at Saionji's chest ended the duel. The green-haired warrior felt a slight pressure on his chest and looked down with a wistful grin. Both fighters parted, bowing to each other in a mutual show of respect.

"A different time, and both of us different people from when we were young… yet always the same outcome."

"Perhaps the same outcome, but your skill has indeed grown since last we met," Touga acknowledged with a salute of his wooden sword.

"Such modesty. I thought you incapable of it." Saionji returned the salute.

They both shared a laugh as they replaced the wooden training swords on their respective stands. Saionji retrieved two towels from his saddlebag, placing one on his shoulder and offering the other to Touga. He accepted it with a nod, realizing that he indeed had worked up quite a sweat during the duel.

"Three days…" Touga said absently as he wiped the sweat from his defined arms.

"Yes. Three days… my, how the years have passed."

"Indeed."

They both stood, each mindful of the coming days, and the challenges soon to be. Saionji was the first to break the silence.

"I take my leave, but I wish us both good fortune in the coming days." With a bow, he grabbed his saddlebag and made his way towards the entrance.

"Good fortune, my dear Saionji."

With a nod, Saionji left the Fencing Hall; a pensive Touga stood alone, his mind full of tumultuous thoughts.


	5. WOTR Chapter 5

Way of the Rose

By Jorge Quinones

Ye Olde Disclaimers: Shoujo Kakumei Utena (Revolutionary Girl Utena) and all the characters pertaining to the manga/show were written by the wonderful Chiho Saito and brought to animated life by the folks at B-Papas and the skillful directions of Kunihiko Ikuhara. The story elements written within this fanfic are my ideas and belong to me. This was written for fun, not profit. I'm just borrowing the characters for a while. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I'm enjoying writing it. We fanfic writers thrive on feedback, and all comments/questions/flames/etc. are welcome. Thank you, and enjoy!

Chapter 5

Anthy Himemiya sat alone at the table farthest from the tavern's entrance. The shade afforded by the large potted plant nearby kept most of her features hidden amongst shadow, leaving very little of her olive complexion to reflect the light of nearby candles. Anthy's dark lavender hair was pulled from her face in a simple ponytail, the tip coming to rest along her abdomen. Her clothes were functional, with the utmost comfort for travel having been the focus of the hands that had made them. The sturdy, yet well-worn traveling boots tapped absentmindedly on the hardwood floor of the tavern. Her satchel and sword rested upon the table, nearby a now-cold wooden platter of food rested forgotten. Lost deep within her thoughts, Anthy's hands gently caressed a small ring. Skillfully made of white gold and adorned with rubies arranged in the shape of a mosaic rose, the ring was a link to her past, and her future.

Since she was but a baby, left on the doorstep of a childless couple, the ring had always been with her. Not one to question the Fates, her guardians had told her that the ring was the key to understanding the dreams she had been having since she had come of age to be considered a woman. Always the same dream night after countless night.

A beautiful woman with pale, unblemished skin, flowing pink hair, and dressed in an elegant red gown with white trimming, would intone her name, calling out, "I have finally found you," before being engulfed in darkness. She would see visions of a glowing white rose, in full bloom, floating above a great arena whose surface was covered in petals of various colors: green, red, blue, orange, pink, and lavender. Knowing that she would one day have to set out alone to seek the answers to her visions, her guardians had her tutored in all manner of warfare and combat. She had shown particular adeptness at fencing, something her guardians looked upon with some worry, but no less the pride. Then one night, two years ago, the mysterious woman of her dreams appeared again, this time reaching for Anthy, pleading for her to go east. It was with great sadness that Anthy's adopted family would give her the final piece of her puzzle. The day that Anthy was to set forth on her journey, her surrogate father had presented her with a sword.

A majestic and deadly work of art it was. The straight, double-edged blade came to a simple cross-guard, wrought to resemble ivy. A massive emerald formed the centerpiece of the guard, with an equally impressive ruby in the form of a rose adorning the hilt, and golden ivy encircling the grip. _"This was also with you that night you came to us," _was all that the man who Anthy had come to know as father had said. It was all that he had needed to say. Without another word, Anthy had taken the sword and set out towards the east, unsure of what she would find, or when, for that matter.

So lost was she in her thoughts that the hand slamming down on the table barely registered. She looked up to see two rather unattractive men, obviously drunk from their bloodshot eyes and foul breath, leering at her.

"Hey there, girlie," one managed to say before he hiccuped, "how's about you treat me and my friend here nice for having bought you this drink?"

Anthy eyed the half-empty glass of Fates-know-what on the table as she slipped the ring into her pocket. "I never ordered a drink. Why don't you two _gentlemen_ go away and bother someone else?"

The men visibly bristled. Although severely intoxicated, they had enough sense between them to know when they had been insulted.

"Why you ungrateful-"

"Now, now," Anthy interrupted with a feral grin, "that's no way to talk to a lady..."

The man that lunged at her, evidently the drunkest of the pair, was unconscious before he hit the ground. Anthy scrutinized her boot, hoping the drunkard's face hadn't nicked the leather. The other fellow stood shocked, his alcohol-imbued mind struggling to process the fight or flight response.

"Just walk away," Anthy said as she smoothly stood, reaching for her satchel and sword, "it isn't worth it."

Unfortunately for him, the man made the wrong decision. He lunged at Anthy, a piercing shriek of rage catching the other resident's attention. With barely an effort, Anthy weaved her sheathed sword through the man's open guard, and hefted him head over heels. The man fell on the table, the wood splintering under his bulk. He briefly struggled to stand up before collapsing upon his friend.

"I warned you..." Anthy signed as she dusted herself off. She reached down and undid both men's money pouches. She tossed them to the Barkeep as she made her way towards the door. "For the damages," she said over her shoulder as she exited the establishment.


	6. WOTR Chapter 6

Way of the Rose

By Jorge Quinones

Ye Olde Disclaimers: Shoujo Kakumei Utena (Revolutionary Girl Utena) and all the characters pertaining to the manga/show were written by the wonderful Chiho Saito and brought to animated life by the folks at B-Papas and the skillful directions of Kunihiko Ikuhara. The story elements written within this fanfic are my ideas and belong to me. This was written for fun, not profit. I'm just borrowing the characters for a while. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I'm enjoying writing it. We fanfic writers thrive on feedback, and all comments/questions/flames/etc. are welcome. Thank you, and enjoy!

Chapter 6

Utena took a long look around at what her mind could only describe as a white room. To simply call it a white room, however, would be an understatement. There were no corners, no walls, and no boundaries of any kind, that she could see. The infinite expanse was somehow illuminated, yet there were no visible sources of light, nor were there any shadows cast. That came as a surprise to Utena, as she lifted one foot, then the other, looking for her shadow. It was then that she noticed what she was wearing. In place of her usual traveling attire and duster she now sported a boyish looking uniform composed of a long-sleeved white top with red trimming, black shorts, calf-high black socks, with red and white dress shoes. Utena glanced at her left hand with a growing sense of both shock and wonder. The rose-shaped mark that had adored the back of her left hand her whole life was gone. Upon the ring finger of the same hand there now rested a ring made of white gold and adorned with rubies arranged in the shape of a mosaic rose. Her mind finally cleared enough to form three simple words.

"Where... am... I?"

"The Ends of the Earth."

Utena spun towards the voice, her hand instinctually reaching for a sword that wasn't there. Her body stopped mid-motion as her eyes came to rest upon the source of the voice. Before her stood the woman of her dreams, resplendent in her elegant white gown with its red trimming, her flowing lavender hair, and her soft olive-toned skin. Her turquoise eyes shined with a smile that echoed on her lips.

"The Ends of the Earth?" Utena asked as she relaxed her defense stance.

The woman only smiled an expression that was both sympathetic and loving.

"Who are you?" Utena tried again as she slowly approached the woman.

"Welcome home, Miss Utena..." the woman's soft voiced grew distant as she was engulfed in darkness.

"DON'T LEAVE!" Utena shouted as she shot up in bed, her body soaked with sweat, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

Utena took deep, slow breaths to calm her racing heart. She looked around the room, re-acquainting herself with her surroundings. Her saddlebags and sword lay upon the chair where she had dropped them the night before. Her duster lay in a heap on the floor, as did her boots. A soft snoring drew her attention to the corner of the bed where Chu-Chu lay soundly asleep. Utena giggled in spite of herself as she reached over and pulled a small portion of the blanket up to cover Chu-Chu.

"Sleep tight, little buddy," she whispered as she got up, "I'm going to go stretch out..."

Utena grabbed her boots, duster, gloves and sword as she silently padded out of the room, making sure not to wake the sleeping desert mouse.

Buttoning up her duster to protect against the chill of the morning, Utena walked up the path leading from the Rose's Thorn. She remembered having seen a building very similar to the training hall of her youth the night before. "If it is a training hall," Utena thought to herself, "then maybe I can get a workout in before breakfast..." She approached the building, noting with a smile that a light was visible within. "Well... it looks like _someone's_ home..."

"NEXT!"

The unmistakable clanging of swords meeting rung out into the cool morning air...

"NEXT!"

The sounds of shoes squeaking upon a training mat... the sounds of ducking, dodging, and lunging...

"NEXT!"

Utena listened more and more intently as she approached the training hall. "Sounds like someone's already training...."

"NEXT!"

A grin spread across Utena's lips. "No... sounds like someone's having a one-sided training session..."


	7. WOTR Chapter 7

Way of the Rose

By Jorge Quinones

Ye Olde Disclaimers: Shoujo Kakumei Utena (Revolutionary Girl Utena) and all the characters pertaining to the manga/show were written by the wonderful Chiho Saito and brought to animated life by the folks at B-Papas and the skillful directions of Kunihiko Ikuhara. The story elements written within this fanfic are my ideas and belong to me. This was written for fun, not profit. I'm just borrowing the characters for a while. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I'm enjoying writing it. We fanfic writers thrive on feedback, and all comments/questions/flames/etc. are welcome. Thank you, and enjoy!

Chapter 7

"NEXT!"

All the dozen or so of the fencers-in-training stood around the main training mat, all of them dressed in padded fencing attire. Each leaned heavily on his or her fellow trainee, their breathing made a chore by the sheer exhaustion each was feeling. Their teacher stood at the center of the training mat, her orange hair spilling messily over her shoulders and down her back. Her dark-green eyes coolly evaluated her trainees from behind her fencing mask. Lady Juri Arisugawa pulled off her mask and set it on her hip, a small grin forming on her lips.

"Come now," she catcalled to her students, "surely some of you have been practicing while I was away?"

As one, all of her students loosed a heavy sigh and resigned themselves to rest on the floor. Juri couldn't help but laugh a hearty yet feminine laugh. It was a laugh of genuine amusement.

"Fine, fine," she said as she regained her composure, "everyone hit the showers. We resume tomorrow morning. I at least hope that some of you have taken something away from this morning's lesson. If any of you wish to stay for another lesson, speak now..."

"Yes, I'd love a lesson..." The sole reply came from somewhere by the main door. Juri narrowed her eyes at the raised hand that poked out above the sea of students. In total silence, the students parted, giving the pink-haired girl unhindered passage to the training mat.

Utena walked calmly towards the mat, her sword high above her head as she stretched out her back. She brought her arms to her sides and slowly turned her head to one side. An extremely audible pop echoed in the training hall. Utena turned her head in the other direction, an equally echoing pop filling the training hall once more. All the while she was being measured up by the eyes of the master swordswoman that stood awaiting her.

"And who might you be?" Juri asked, already reaching for another practice fencing foil.

"My name's Utena. Utena Tenjou," she said with a polite bow.

Juri smiled at the show of respect. With polite nod of her head, she responded, "I am Lady Juri Arisugawa."

Utena returned the smile, "Well, Lady Arisugawa, how about that lesson?"

Juri tossed Utena the fencing foil, handing her mask off to a student. "No boots on my training mat, and do take off that coat, if you please..." she said as she undid the neck of her two-piece fencing attire. A gold chain dangled from her neck, a rose-shaped locket being the only adornment gracing it.

With a shrug of her shoulders, Utena let her duster and right glove fall to the floor, kicking off her boots as well. With great care, she placed her sword upon her duster, giving everyone surrounding her a warning look. Thankfully, Utena surmised from their reactions, none would be foolish enough to disturb her sword. She stepped upon the mat and held the foil in her left hand, letting her arm get re-accustomed to the weight and feel of the training weapon. Her black short-sleeved shirt hung comfortably from her lean frame, as did the faded woodland-green traveling pants she wore. Her gloved hand tightened around the grip as she brought the training weapon up for a sharp salute.

Juri grinned, impressed by Utena's formal stance and salute. "You are ready, then?"

Utena returned the grin, "Ready as I'll ever be. Yourself?"

"We'll see, won't we?" Juri eased into a relaxed stance, her foil held at the ready. "En guarde!"

As one, the two duelists lunged at each other, each almost caught off guard by the other's speed. The students surrounding the mat visibly flinched when Juri and Utena's foils met with a reverberating clang. Juri looked down at the crossed foils. She cracked a smile at Utena's audacity. Utena had made her take the defensive stance.

"Not bad, Miss Tenjou."

"Please, call me Utena."

"As you wish, Utena..." With a grunt, Juri pushed Utena back as she went on the offensive.

Blow after carefully calculated blow was deflected, though Utena found herself losing ground fast. The more she tried to find a gap in Juri's offense, the more she was pushed back. With a well-placed parry, Utena was able to reverse the tide of battle. To their horror, the students saw Utena begin her offensive; a rather surprised Juri quickly losing the ground she had gained. Once again, Utena and Juri found themselves in the center of the mat, their foils crossed.

"Not bad, milady," Utena offered with a sly grin.

Juri's flirty wink caught Utena off-guard. The distraction proved to be Utena's undoing. With a well-timed maneuver, Juri disarmed Utena, sending her foil flying into their audience. Utena felt a slight pressure on her chest. She couldn't help but smile as she looked down to find the tip of Juri's foil tapping over her heart. Utena chuckled as the students erupted into cheers and clapping, each voicing their congratulations to their teacher.

Utena shrugged her shoulders. "Two out of three?" she asked, her eyebrow arched in anticipation.

"Two out of three," Juri answered as she lowered her sword and signaled for Utena to be brought another fencing foil.

Utena rolled her shoulders as she relaxed her stance. With a quick, sharp movement, she brought her fencing foil up in salute. With a mischievous grin, Utena offered Juri a wink of her own as she brought the sword down and settled into her dueling stance.

Juri could only smile back as she assumed her dueling stance. "En guarde!"

The duelists paced around the training mat, sizing each other up. Juri jabbed experimentally, a move easily countered by Utena. Utena returned the favor with a jab of her own. The students in the training hall held their collective breaths, waiting for the master duelists to make their moves.

"So, whatcha waiting for?" Utena asked as she backpedaled, changing her stance slightly.

"I could ask you the same thing, you know." Juri also altered her stance to match Utena's.

Without warning, Juri launched her offensive. Utena easily blocked jab after jab. Much to Juri's surprise, and to the student's horror, Utena began to laugh. It wasn't a mocking laugh, Juri realized, but the sound of Utena thoroughly enjoying herself. With a graceful parry, Utena turned Juri's offensive around. Utena's laughed proved contagious, as Juri found herself laughing as well, even though she was on the receiving end of Utena's barrage.

"You seem to be having fun, Utena."

"Well, the same could be said of you, milady. May I offer a bit of advice?'

"And what advice would that be?"

Utena's grin matched the smile in her eyes. "Don't blink..."

The students let out a collective gasp, as Utena attacks seem to blur together. Juri's mind raced to keep track of the incoming attacks as her body struggled to counter each as it came. As unexpected as the sudden surge of speed was, even more unexpected was Utena freezing in offensive stance. Juri looked down to see the tip of Utena's foil over heart. At one point in her onslaught, Utena had managed to sneak past Juri's defense. To her surprise, Juri could discern neither how, nor when, it had happened.

"That makes us even, doesn't it?" Juri asked as she to a step back, grinning at the unexpected challenge that Utena was presenting.

"Yes, I do believe it does." Utena stood up from her offensive stance and casually rested the foil against her shoulder.

"Well, care for something a bit different for our final bout?"

"What would that be, milady?"

Juri offered Utena a sly grin as she whispered something to one of her students. She placed her foil at the edge of the training mat and recovered a black ribbon. With a little bit of flourish, Juri tied her wild mane of orange into a simple ponytail, the ribbon even with her neck. Following suit, Utena left her foil at her end of the training mat. When she turned back, she saw Juri looking over her sword, the keen metal glinting in the light of the lights high overhead.

The hand-and-a-half sword was simple, yet elegant, in its design. The lean, double-edged blade came to a bronze crescent-shaped cross-guard, resplendent in etched relief of twin dragons facing inward. The handle of wrapped leather culminated in a bronze endcap. It was a versatile and deadly weapon, in the hands of a proper master.

With an acknowledging nod, Utena motioned for her sword to be brought to her.

The young duelist-in-training was quaking in his boots as he brought Utena her sword. She grasped the handle with her left hand, and with a fluid motion, Utena drew her sword from its scabbard. The clear note sung as she brought her blade parallel with the ground, the fingertips or her right hand hovering barely an inch below the tip of the blade.

"So, what are the rules, milady?" Utena asked as she made a few slashes at a non-existing opponent.

"Simple... neither to the death nor first blood... first one to give up loses... fair enough?"

Utena's answer was an anticipatory half-grin as she took her place on the mat, bringing her weapon up in salute. To her surprise, Juri removed the padded chest piece of her fencing attire as she approached the mat. Her opponent took her place, her bright orange hair swaying against her back. The two-piece fencing garment, now devoid of protective padding, shifted as Juri's defined muscular shape moved within it.

Juri brought her sword up in an answering salute. "After you, Utena..."

Utena smiled. "Thank you for the honor... En guarde!"

The unmistakable clang of swords meeting echoed within the walls of the training hall. Juri and Utena concentrated on each other from opposite sides of crossed blades. Both knew that neither would give quarter, and neither would request it. With a push, Juri forced some distance between herself and Utena. There was something new in the way Utena had met her first offensive maneuver. As she began circling the mat with Utena, Juri realized what it was. The raw determination that one felt on the field of honor. Yes, that was it. Utena was simply emanating that determination. Juri knew that she, herself, was also exuding a sense of resolve that was simply not found during training. They were both treating this as fully-fledged duel.

"And why shouldn't we?" Juri thought to herself. "This is as much a duel as any I've ever had... but we are going to duel on my terms, aren't we my dear?" Juri allowed herself a small smile as she again forced Utena back to allow herself some space.

"Any particular reasons for smiling, milady?" Utena asked between carefully controlled breaths.

"Oh no, none at all..." Juri answered, adjusting her stance for her next maneuver. "Tell me, does it seem warm here to you?"

"Warm?"

In the blink of an eye, Juri had lunged forward and was now behind Utena, her sword held with its point down. Utena smiled as she felt the bottom half of her shirt fall off her body.

"Two can play at this game," Utena thought to herself as she turned to face Juri.

With a fluid motion, Juri turned around to face Utena, her body automatically moving into a defensive stance. She never had a chance to fully realize the stance. Juri felt a tug at her left sleeve, and looking up at Utena, saw her grinning broadly, sword resting on her shoulder. She already knew what had happened. With a sweeping bow, she let her left sleeve come sliding off her arm.

"Figured I'd return the favor." Utena said with a shrug of her shoulders.

Juri couldn't help but grin at her opponent.

Almost as if answering some unheard signal, both opponents launched at each other. The students encircling them visibly flinched with each blow that sounded. The combatants were using maneuvers, attacks, and defenses that most of the students had only ever heard about. More pieces of cloth found their way to the training mat with each blade's flash.

To her horror, Utena found herself completely devoid of her shirt. The simple black bra that she wore offered scant comfort as she imagined what the male students around her were thinking. "NO!" she scolded herself. "Keep your mind on Juri..." Utena looked at her opponent, a smug look adorning her face. Utena took stock of the damage she had visited upon her opponent's attire: both sleeves and one of her trousers' legs were missing. "Okay... let's even the odds."

With a fierce battle cry, Utena charged. To the students' surprise, Juri charged with a war cry of her own. At the last minute, Utena crouched mid-charge and leapt over Juri, the distinctive swish of a well-placed slash sounding. Juri paused in her fully extended stance. As she rose, she felt the remainder of her shirt slip off her body. She turned to face Utena, her head held proudly high.

"Do you normally wear pink, milady" Utena chided with a good-natured smile as she eyed Juri's rather ornate pink bra, the golden speckle of her locket peeking out from her cleavage.

"Not usually. Do you?" Juri asked, a smile of her own giving Utena pause to consider her words.

With a visible gulp, Utena looked down. Her fear was confirmed as she saw her pants in a bundle at her feet. The buttons that had been holding them up had been expertly snipped off. Her rather ornate pink panties seemed to glow under the hall's numerous lights.

"Give?" Juri asked as she rested her blade on her shoulder, very much imitating the stance that Utena had adopted earlier.

Utena kicked aside her pants and brought her sword up to her right cheek, it's point aimed at Juri's fencing trousers. "Not quite yet..."

Juri effectively parried every slash meant for her trousers' buttons and ties. She caught Utena off balance with one particularly overextended thrust, causing Utena to spin away from her. With a slight push, she opened up the distance between them.

"Now, now, Utena, to lose your focus is to lose all." Juri sensed that Utena had begun to rely more on her fighting instinct rather than her true skill. She was proving too good of an opponent to let the challenge slip away in such a manner.

"And to lose your buttons," Utena countered, ducking low and spinning, "is to lose your trousers..." The unmistakable sound of buttons bouncing off the marble floor of the training hall echoed in the stunned silence.

Juri closed her eyes as she felt her trousers, now devoid of their buttons, slide off her hips. "She tricked me," Juri thought to herself with a mental smile, "she led me to believe she was losing her concentration... she was waiting for me to lower my guard just that much... oh, but she is clever, this one..." She turned to address her open-mouthed students. "To answer all of your, no doubt, questions... yes. I always wear thongs." Her brilliant smile seemed to soften the edge in her voice, releasing the tension that had thickly hung in the hall. "And no... I usually match." Juri tugged at the waistband of her purple undergarments.

She turned back to face a grinning Utena.

"Give?"

Juri laughed at the audacity of Utena's question. "My dear Utena, there is only one way for this duel to end."

"And how is that, milady?"

"Simple..." As Juri reversed her grip and began her upswing, Utena knew she'd been had. She had let her guard down just enough for Juri to press her advantage.

Utena brought her sword up to attempt to block Juri's slash. She was too late. Juri stood tall and proud, dazzling green eyes intently studying Utena. Her right fist was motionless next to her cheek. Held securely within its grasp was the sword's grip, the blade facing up and away from Juri.

Utena felt something on her chest give. With a surprised squawk, Utena dropped her sword and grabbed the now-parted halves of her bra. As the sword clanked upon the floor, the students erupted into cheers. Backs were patted, money exchanged hands, and a chorus of 'I told you so' echoed within the walls of the training hall.

Still clutching her cloven bra, Utena brought herself up to her full height. She bowed deeply, much to everyone's surprise. "Thank you very much for the lesson, Lady Arisugawa."

As she rose, Juri snapped her sword up for a sharp salute. Holding the salute, she offered a bow of her own. "Thank _you_ very much for the lesson, Miss Utena. Tell me, where are you staying?" A rather attractive purple-haired girl brought Juri a flowing cloak that reached down to her ankles. A golden brooch in the form of an ornate rose adorned its neck.

"At the Rose's Thorn, milady." A nearby student blushed fiercely as she handed Utena her duster. With care, Utena slipped on the old leather garment, fastening it completely up.

With a polite nod, Juri turned and began to walk off the mat. "Have a good day, Miss Utena."

"Thank you. You, too, milady." Utena said as she began collecting up the pieces of fabric and buttons that had once been her clothes. With a lop-sided grin, Utena turned to the few remaining students in the hall. "Anyone know a good seamstress?"

A pair of wide blue eyes watched Utena as the crowd around her burst into good-natured laughter. "Amazing..."


	8. WOTR Chapter 8

Way of the Rose

By Jorge Quinones

Ye Olde Disclaimers: Shoujo Kakumei Utena (Revolutionary Girl Utena) and all the characters pertaining to the manga/show were written by the wonderful Chiho Saito and brought to animated life by the folks at B-Papas and the skillful directions of Kunihiko Ikuhara. The story elements written within this fanfic are my ideas and belong to me. This was written for fun, not profit. I'm just borrowing the characters for a while. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I'm enjoying writing it. We fanfic writers thrive on feedback, and all comments/questions/flames/etc. are welcome. Thank you, and enjoy!

**Chapter 8**

Lord Akio Ohtori massaged his temples, his attempts to clear his tumultuous thoughts doing nothing for his headache. He stared down the length of the massive table that occupied the Hall of the Duelists. With a weary sigh, he lifted himself up from the table. As he stood, he depressed a button hidden on the armrest of his chair. As if responding to an unheard command, the lone candle went out as the enormous table suddenly jerked upwards, before beginning its descent in to the inky sea of the tiled marble floor. The grinding of gears whispered at the edge of Lord Akio's hearing. A click echoed off the walls of the Hall of the Duelists as the table finally settled half a foot below the level of the floor. The table slid horizontally away from where Akio still stood to reveal a set of stairs leading down into the deep dark.

Akio straightened his uniform with a sharp tug and took his first step into shadow. His path illuminated as a small candelabrum on the wall to his right flashed into existence when the sole of his shoe made contact with the marbled step. With every other step he made further down the pathway, another candelabrum would ignite of its own accord, just barely keeping the path directly ahead of him lit. Akio made his way down the steps, the silence of the pathway being disturbed only by the sounds of his heels striking the floor.

Sensing the end of the stairway, Lord Akio slowed his descent. As if on cue, two candelabrums directly in front of him flared to life, banishing the encroaching darkness. The candelabrums flanked a massive door, the entirety of which was covered with a tangle of roses, their thorns glinting in the flickering candlelight. The ornately carved golden handleset, bereft of the thorny ivy that covered the door, stood out like a beacon amid a dark sea. Akio stopped an arm's length from the door, his steel-gray eyes focused on the handleset. With the silent grace of ritual, he removed the dress coat of his uniform and hung it on a coat hook that shone at the edge of luminescence. The cufflink on his right sleeve came off soon afterwards; the sleeve of the silken shirt was rolled up by deft fingers to bare a lean and finely muscled forearm. The countless scars that marred the olive-toned skin glowed white beneath the candlelight.

Eyes closed, breath held, Lord Akio Ohtori reached for the handleset. The thorny ivy that covered the door exploded in a blur of movement. With a piercing grip, the thorns encircled the entirety of Akio's forearm, completely immobilizing his arm and halting his hand just as his fingertips barely caressed the handleset. Blood wept from both new wounds and old scars reopened. Akio calmly regarded his arm, his eyes taking in the sight of the rose thorns, bathed in his own blood, as they glistened in the candlelight. He looked up at the door. The steel-gray of his gaze locked onto the rose seal that had been uncovered with the shifting of the rose thorns.

"I, Akio Ohtori, Lord of the Ends of the Earth, bid entrance to the Sanctuary of the Rose." The challenge was given with practiced ease.

In silence punctuated only by the sound of blood dripping to the stone floor, the thorny ivy of the guardian roses slowly uncoiled from around Akio's forearm. They receded to the far sides of the entrance to expose the massive door. The handleset depressed of its own accord, and the door swung open to admit Akio.

The chamber within glowed and ethereal blue, the inner walls basked in soft hues. At the center of the circular room there stood a tall domed structure similar to a birdcage in appearance. The support structure of the cage was of highly polished silver wrought in intricate patterns designed to emulate rose blossoms and petals. The silver cage overlay a glass dome, the fluid sealed within being the source of the soft blue light.

At the geometric center of the birdcage floated a young girl. Her iridescent white dress flowed around her in gentle patterns, the fair skin of her arms and feet glowed with a life and fire of their own. The maiden floated in a curled position, her knees close to her body, her calves nearly touching the back of her thighs, her delicate arms wrapped loosely around her legs, her face close to her knees. The gently swaying mass of deepest violet that was her hair alternated between allowing full view of her person and completely obscuring her from view. On her forehead, just above her brow, was a simple red marking. The circle and teardrop shapes combined to resemble the silhouette of a keyhole. The blood-red of the symbol stood in stark contrast to her fair, almost pale, pink skin.

Akio Ohtori entered the sanctuary, his steps precise and his pace brisk. He stopped a foot away from the massive birdcage; a mirthless smile played across his lips as he observed the slumbering you lady within. Possessive eyes traced every contour and detail of her form. Akio's steady breathing played counter-point to the rhythmic splashing of blood dripping from his injured arm to the dark stone floor.

"Soon," Akio intoned as he reached up with his bloodied arm and pressed his hand, fingers spread, onto the glass. Warmth emanated from within the seemingly cold dome. "Soon you will awaken, and your power will be mine once again... a bride surrounded by roses..."

Akio threw back his head and laughed, the malevolent sound echoing off the black stone walls of the perfectly circular room. He gently passed his hand along the glass with all the tenderness of a lover's caress. In its wake, his hand left a long bloody smear. Backlit by the inner light of the dome, the blood glowed with its own ethereal hues as it slowly began dripping down the glass.

To Be Continued...


End file.
